I speak of them little, at least in the present tense, my parents. They live eight hours from here, not much a drive but so much so that it can hamper spontinaity. However; their distance isn't so much me putting it between me and them but them and me.
My parent live in Northwest Ontario; I live in Central Wisconsin, I grew up here, they raised me here, they moved just before I became an adult. I lay no blame, they hated their position in life and it was warranted, my father in a factory and my mother in sales...dead end jobs. Them realizing this they decided to sell the childhood home and move to the "Great White North."
They had bought a small resort, a mom and pop joint. They make very little money, never as much as they would wish, but they are content. They haven't any bosses, they haven't any deadlines, they only have each other and the need to keep on for one more year.
I admire them, their sacrifice, they could have settled for the status-quo but they didn't. They could have waited for "that" raise, "that" promotion, but they didn't. They made the choice to go it alone, to carve their own niche in time, and they may never make it but they know that they made a running go at it.
They waited nerely twenty years to realize their dreams; How long will it take me? My parents lived on a whim and have done such for my entire life; Am I capable of such things? LIfe is nothing but what you make of it, and I only hope I can make it what I want it to be.